I Followed Him Off The Edge Chapter 2

“You’re awake.”

The sound of the door closing pulled me back from the void. I looked listlessly at Cordelia as she entered, offering no greeting.

She placed the thermal container on the side table, ladled soup into a small bowl, and brought the spoon directly to my lips.

“Your favorite beef consommé. I picked out the thyme.”

A faint, burnt aroma drifted through the air.

I raised an eyebrow, noting the angry red marks on her thumb and forefinger. She had cooked this herself.

How novel. Only a month ago, she despised me so much she practically wished me dead.

I studied her, oddly intrigued.

She was thinner than before. Her eyes were deeply shadowed, which only sharpened the exquisite severity of her features. The look she leveled at me was saturated with self-reproach.

My gaze drifted to the doorway. A familiar white t-shirt flashed past. Dax Prescott’s furtive, peering eyes met mine.

Ah. No good deed goes unpunished, and no sudden devotion is without a hidden agenda. She was here on behalf of her beloved.

For the first time since I woke up, I smiled at Cordelia.

A look of relief washed over her, only to freeze when I spoke, my voice devoid of warmth.

“Why don’t you invite Dax in? Worried I’ll throw more dirt on him? Don’t worry. My legs are broken. I won’t get a chance to perform an encore.”

“Spencer!”

Cordelia’s eyes flashed with the chill of a gathering storm. She looked ready to lash out, to reprimand me as she always had.

Then she glanced down at my motionless legs, pressed the bridge of her nose, and sighed.

“I regret Jude’s death. Dax… he didn’t mean to incite him. None of us knew his depression was so severe. Besides, the Hallowell family couldn’t possibly let June marry someone with a history of that kind of severe mental instability…”

Her voice trailed off, a rare moment of guilt crossing her face.

I met her eyes with an icy stare and let out a single, contemptuous chuckle.

She knew. She knew the whole story. If she hadn’t indulged Dax, he would never have dared to ruin Jude’s proposal.

“Jude is dead, Cordelia. That’s an unchangeable fact. Try not to be too upset.”

She turned her head away, her lips tightening into a thin red line. “Just focus on getting better. When you’re healed, we’ll get married.”

She didn’t dare meet my gaze again. She quickly gathered Dax and left.

Before exiting the room, Dax tossed me a look of pure, satisfied provocation.

It was the same look he gave Jude and me the day he returned from overseas, a private declaration of war.

“Guys, have you heard the expression? The late arrival always triumphs over the long-suffering loyalist.

“Trust me. I just have to snap my fingers, and both of them will come running like dogs.”